


The Moon is All We’ll See

by screaminghere



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Character Study, Hanahaki Disease, Language of Flowers, M/M, i talk too much about flowers, klance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-01-17
Updated: 2018-01-17
Packaged: 2019-03-05 22:44:06
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,143
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13397835
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/screaminghere/pseuds/screaminghere
Summary: Ha·na·ha·kinoun1. (medical) a sometimes fatal illness born from one-sided love, causing flowers to grow in the victim’s lungs. This causes symptoms such as; coughing, vomiting, ruptured throats, and blocked airways.





	The Moon is All We’ll See

**Author's Note:**

> song: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=7ffLQO-9YL8

It was a sunflower first, a vibrant yellow flower that signifies happiness and friendship. The sunflower was large and beautiful, taking up more space than allowed and unapologetically growing. The flower crowded and petals flew with the moving air. In and out.

There was a girl in Lance’s third grade class who always talked about her new puppy. She never talked to Lance and Lance never talked to her, but Lance loved hearing her talk to her friends about her puppy. Lance thought that she must be a good person.

A petal fell from Lance’s mouth with a light cough and a slight gag. His parents weren’t worried past the point of their son being uncomfortable, because they knew that this would fade. Sunflowers only occurred in hanahaki when the victim is suffering from a one-sided friendship, and it was not fatal.

The sunflower would decay, and eventually Lance would throw it up. Everyone has gone through it at least once. Despite this, Lance found that he likes flowers.

A couple more sunflowers came and went, each more bearable than the last. Lance found some good friends, and sunflowers weren’t concerning anymore.

The sunflower. The flower of adoration.

In the garrison, Lance was the class clown. Lance hid behind humor and repetitive jokes. Most of his peers thought of him as annoying, as not deserving to be there. That was fine with Lance. Then he saw her.

Her name was Nala. She was intelligent and sharp, yet caring and light-hearted. She had a gorgeous accent that she said came from being raised in Botswana and her deep eyes melted ice. She said that her favorite flower was the lily-of-the-valley, because it was the flower of her birth month. They’re small, bell-like light colored flowers.

Lance found the flowers in his hands four months after he met her.

There was no surviving this infection, because this was made from love. Lance screamed at his friends to leave him alone even when the flower’s dangerous roots scraped through his throat. He also refused to put Nala through the pressure of having to decide whether or not she loved him. He already knew what the answer would be.

The only way to live was through surgery. However, once the infection was surgically removed, all love for the special person was also removed, and could never be formed again.

Hunk and Pidge had to wait for Lance to pass out before they could get him medical help. When Lance woke up from surgery, he didn’t talk to them for a week. He eventually realized that their actions were justified, but he still had an empty feeling in his chest. He breathed. In and out.

The lily-of-the-valley. The flower of humility.

When Lance found the Blue Lion, he found himself. The hole inside of his heart was filled with a sense of belonging, because Blue chose him over anyone else. Over Keith.

Now Keith was really something. Keith was infuriating and relieving at the same time. Keith found a way to build Lance up to where he would explode and break him down to where he could cry, and then manage to sew him back together and convince him that it’ll be okay. Keith was human and real yet mysterious and talented and everything that Lance wanted to be.

Keith was stony. He didn’t interact with people much, which Lance didn’t see as fair, so he took it in his own hands to force Keith to talk and sit and dance with everyone else.

Lance told the majority of his stupid jokes to Keith, because Keith was always the hardest to make laugh, which made it so much more valuable when he finally did.  
Lance always invited Keith to dance with him because Keith was the most awkward on his feet out of anyone on the team, and Lance loved being able to be better at at least something. Lance sat next to Keith at dinner because Keith always complained about how messy of an eater that Lance was, and it was nice for Lance to hear that Keith wasn’t as distant or humorless as he made himself seem.

Lance made himself known by being as outlandish as possible. Lance could only hope that Keith would continue to tolerate him.

The dark pink rose. The flower of thankfulness.

Keith never told Lance what his favorite flower is, because he’d never really known. Pidge said that her favorite flower was the begonia; small red flowers that gave a sense of warning. “Beware.” Hunk loved oleanders. Oleanders were delicate pink flowers that stood for carefulness, caution. Shiro liked blue violets, which stood for watchfulness and faithfulness.

Lance confessed to his favorite flower being a carnation. When he was asked why that was, he just said that it was pretty, but it went much deeper than that. Depending on color, carnations can mean love, humiliation, death, unrequited, hate, cowardice, etc. Carnations were also soft.

The forsythia. The flower of anticipation.

Keith was also reckless. Keith went straight for any dangerous situation and made the rest of the team watch him put his stupid life at risk.

Keith had once attempted to take on over ten galra soldiers at the same time. If Lance hadn’t ran to fight at his side, that stray laser bullet would have hit Keith straight in the head. As it was, it hit Lance underneath his rib cage. Keith called him an idiot and Lance remembers more angry shouting before passing out.

The azalea. The flower of “take care of yourself, for me.”

When Lance was released from a healing pod, he stumbled into Keith’s warm arms. Then he got slapped across the face by one of Keith’s warm hands and told by Keith’s warm voice to never do something so stupid ever again. Lance couldn’t focus on anyone else present.

Keith led him back to his room and helped him into his bed. On his way out, Keith paused and uttered a quiet but almost sincere “thank you.”

Lance knew that the apology had to be forced. It was simply something to atone for Lance saving Keith’s life. However, it still made his heart soar.

The primrose. The flower of “I can’t live without you.”

Lance woke up late the next day, near noon. He took a shower but then doubled over, coughing fits seizing him, possibly a cold from being frozen in a healing pod. He told himself that at first. He told himself that it was a cold and it would pass. Lance downed more cough syrup than recommended and carried on with his day.

The team trained hard every day. They were concerned when Lance broke down in yet another coughing fit, but didn’t notice when a crimson petal was exhaled from his lungs. They were all busy and Keith was busy too.

The carnation. The flower of divine love.

Lance cracked jokes and danced harder than ever, living now because there was no way he could survive this, and he didn’t think that he wanted to. Living life without being able to love Keith didn’t seem as appealing as it did when they first met. Lance would go down with this love. Lance’s smile was as bright as it had been. Maybe brighter.

At night, his body was racked with shudders and retching, his heart aching for someone that he knew that he could never have. Lance let himself fantasize about Keith accepting him, about them laying out in the warm summer air and Keith laughing at yet another one of his stupid jokes and smiling at him with that rare smile that could outshine the sun. Lance fantasized about Keith loving him back and being able to receive a bouquet of flowers instead of creating one.

Lance was a dreamer.

The grass. Not a flower, but still growing and living, standing for submission, giving in.

One month had passed and Lance collapsed at training, a flower constructing his breathing for some moments. Keith was the first to make it to his side and Lance reveled at being held in Keith’s arms. Keith asked him what was wrong and Lance said that he needed a nap. Keith called him an idiot and he had a soft smile on his face and Lance’s chest felt like it was being set on fire because Keith wasn’t being nice to him for the same reason that Lance was finding it hard to breathe.

Keith helped Lance back to his room just as he had done when Lance first came out of the healing pod. When Keith finally left his room, Lance coughed up a whole carnation, brilliantly red. It was horrendous and jarring and unfair. Yet, it was from love, and despite how it threatened to burst open Lance’s rib cage, he wouldn’t stop it if he could. He washed away the blood and kept the flower under his pillow.

The red carnation. The flower of an aching heart.

Lance ran game nights, which, under his rule, were practically every night. After a trying game of uno, Keith and Lance were the only two left. Lance won with a wild card and cheered loudly. Keith laughed even though he lost and Lance could feel that Keith was looking at him, but he payed no attention as he bragged about his uno expertise. He felt Keith’s eyes leave him.

Lance caught a glance of Keith’s expression. He looked happy, like he had everything he wanted. Lance felt something thorny worm its way into his heart. He went to bed.

The orange mock. A shrub with blossoms that stood for deceit.

Lance walked through the hall to his room and spotted a flower on the ground. A daisy, blue, like the girl scouts. His worst fear. This couldn’t be real.

Then Keith was there, appearing like mist, looking at him like he did after the uno game, but with horror on his face. Despite all of the pain that Lance had felt in his chest over the past month, it was nothing compared to right then. Keith was in love with someone.

Lance could feel his heart beating in his head and hot tears rolling down his face while berating himself for not predicting this.

As if the situation wasn’t bad enough, Lance coughed. Just one simple movement and compression of the chest and then his biggest secret was out. Red petals hit the ground.

Keith was suddenly hugging him. Judging by the water on Lance’s shoulder, he was crying too, which Lance didn’t think was fair. Lance was the one dealing with his love being taken away.

Keith was murmuring “I’m sorry,” continuously. Then there was a snuck in, “I love you,” and Lance realized that Keith was right in calling him an idiot as the pieces clicked together. Keith wasn’t just in love with someone, Keith was apparently in love with him. How?

Lance said, “I love you,” back and yet his heart still ached. How could Keith love him?

The daisy. The flower of “I’ll never tell.”

Keith was rambling and Lance could feel the guilt rolling off of him. Just tonight, had Keith realized his own feelings. Just tonight, had Keith had to cough up flowers. There had been so many. So many petals and full flowers and Keith had dropped one because there were too many to hold. Lance had been alone for so long and Keith felt guilty for that.

Keith felt guilty and so he was trying to save Lance. Keith felt guilty for something that he did to Lance. The facts felt like lies. How could Keith love him?

They both laughed at how dumb they were. They both held each other as the last of the petals fluttered from their mouths. They coughed and wheezed and then laughed some more. It felt surreal, how could Keith love him?

But Lance’s petals didn’t stop coming. They stopped being red and full and turned white and thin. He was coughing harder than ever, disgustingly hacking up an entire flower.

The daffodil. The flower of unrequited love.

Keith was expressionless, his eyes unseen and his nose obstructed by a darkness covering his face. Only his mouth remained, twisted upwards in an innocent smile. Keith took the flower from Lance’s hands and gently tilted Lance’s mouth open, sliding the stem down Lance’s throat. Lance choked.

Lance slid to the floor, shaking. How could Keith love him? The flowers surrounded him, growing, multiplying, drowning him. Keith was gone.

Lance was never in the hallway with Keith. Blood and petals and pillows and comforters surrounded him. He was in bed.

The poppy. The flower of sleep.

“How could you love me?” Lance whispered into the dark of his room. A flower crowded his throat, the petals stuck even in the moving air. In and-.

**Author's Note:**

> art that inspired me: http://kikokay-k.tumblr.com/post/158799931128/klangst-week-day-1-unrequited-love-hanahaki


End file.
